Title: Twice As Much
Characters: Nalisse Zabi, Degwin Zabi, Gihren Zabi, Saslo Zabi, Dozle Zabi, Kishiria Zabi, Garma Zabi.
Notes: Set 20-years pre-MS Gundam. Written for and inspired by my friend Azelma.
Degwin brings them in, one at a time, to say goodbye.
Gihren is almost a man now and studies her the way he studies animals for dissection. Although she tried, he has never been her son. She is not sure Gihren has ever been anyone's son, and this is a formality. There are no words to exchange between them, and certainly not without Saslo there to span the gulf between them. When the bare minimum amount of time that is appropriate has passed, Gihren spins on his heels and marches out.
Nalisse realizes he's wearing a cape for some reason, and that bothers her more than the fact that he didn't even glance at Garma's incubator.
Without Gihren, Saslo seems almost as lost as his older brother. He avoids looking at her as much as Gihren stared, but it's all right. Saslo's attention is drawn to the little baby beyond her, trying to kick his tiny feet against the plexiglass. His eyes aren't as cold as Gihren's and she wishes Degwin had brought them in together. The boys are beyond both of them, but Degwin seems especially incapable of understanding them; they need to be together.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be more of a mother to you both," she says.
Saslo starts, as though having forgotten she was in the room, or perhaps that she could speak. Ignoring her words, he asks, "Will he die?"
Nalisse's gaze drifts back toward the incubator. "Not if his big brothers take care of him."
That sets Saslo's mouth in a line.
Weariness makes her close her eyes, and when she reopens them, she finds Saslo has transformed into little Kishiria and that she does not appreciate being made to wait.
"I've decided to attend your funeral after all," Kishiria informs her.
Nalisse long ago learned to accept such strange statements from the girl, but any sort of reply catches in her throat.
"It's going to conflict with my spring plans, you know."
It's all Nalisse can do to whisper, "I'm sorry."
"All the same, if you could die by the 25th that would be the most convenient. Were you planning on living much longer?"
Nalisse wants to laugh or be horrified, but she is neither. Her gaze just drifts back to the pale little baby wriggling a few feet from her. Kishiria can't help it. She's a child and it isn't her mother that's dying.
"I don't see what you find so interesting about him." Kishiria taps on the glass, trying to get Garma's attention, but he can't see her. "It hardly seems worth it."
Nalisse is about ready to call the nurse in to give her more medicine, but she resists. She's almost done with this ordeal. "What?"
"Having another one. Your life for his." She turns her back to the incubator. "If he's anything like his brother . . ." She shrugs and notices the door is open and Dozle's standing there, waiting for her. Smiling, she looks back to Nalisse. "Remember, the 25th!"
Seeing her mutated eight-year-old lumber into the room, Nalisse's heart swells and the pain seems to vanish. Dozle's eyes are red and brimming. "Oh, come here, my baby." The bed is really too narrow for two, but Nalisse finds room. She cradles Dozle's head against her breast and strokes his hair. "Don't cry," she whispers. "Don't cry."
"Gihren says it's my fault you're sick."
A new kind of pain shoots through her. "It's never your fault, Dozle. It's no one's fault. These things just happen, sometimes." It hurts, but she sits up to kiss the top of his head. "Promise me you won't blame yourself, or Garma, or your father, or even Gihren."
"But . . ." He lifts his impossibly sad face to her.
At only eight, he's so frightfully ugly she wants to hold him in her arms forever, to protect him from the life of scorn and ridicule she knows he's bound to face. "I love your father," she quietly says. "And I love you and I loved our family and wanted to bring more joy into the world." She strokes away a tear that has escaped down Dozle's cheek. "It didn't go exactly to plan, but it isn't all bad, is it?" Her eyes once again shift to Garma.
Dozle follows her gaze and he sees Garma for the first time. He slides off the bed, mesmerized, and quietly pads toward the incubator, staring down at the tiny baby inside with wide eyes. "He's all right?"
Nalisse sighs and lets her eyes close. "I think he will be." She opens them again, focusing on Dozle. "You have to take care of him when I'm gone."
It takes considerable effort for Dozle to peel his eyes off Garma. "Gone? You mean you really are going away?"
More than anything, Nalisse wishes she could find the strength to stand beside him right now. She reaches out and presses the button that will summon her nurse. "I'm afraid so, my dear."
"But . . . you promised you'd play with me again, after the baby was out of your tummy. You said you wouldn't have to stay in the bed anymore."
There's a tightness in Nalisse's throat she can't swallow, so it's with some relief that the nurse arrives. With only a nod of her head, he knows what to do, and efficiently ups her pain medication. It begins to work almost instantly, though the way the edges of reality begin to blur do nothing to settle her nerves.
"I'm sorry, Dozle." She clears her throat. "Look at me. Come here." She makes space on the bed for him again and she finds joy in the look of shock on the nurse's face as her giant eight-year-old climbs into bed beside her.
She picks up one of Dozle's hands and folds it in both of hers. "I'm so sorry I won't be able to play with you this summer," she says. "I want to, more than anything in the whole Earth Sphere, but I can't. I just simply can't. It doesn't mean I don't love you. Sometimes there are things bigger in the universe than us; things we can't fight, no matter how much we love or struggle. I won't be able to play with you this summer, but . . . but maybe Garma will."
She looks at the nurse. "Can we hold him? Just for a minute."
The nurse looks at Dozle skeptically.
"Please," Nalisse says. "I insist."
To her relief, he seems to sense what this moment will mean for them, and he goes to the incubator and makes all the preparations necessary to briefly remove Garma from his safe little cocoon. When he approaches with the infant swaddled, Nalisse extends her arms and takes him, cradling him to her breast.
"He's so tiny." Dozle barely breathes. "Was I ever so tiny?"
Nalisse's vision blurs as the tears she swore she wouldn't shed come. "No." She swallows hard, and then nods. "Yes. Yes, you were. Once. You got bigger before I could hold you, though."
"Garma came early, didn't he?"
"Yes." She shifts on the bed, angling her body so she can transfer Garma to Dozle. "Support his head." She laughs at how easily Dozle takes to it. "You have to take care of him. He's going to be as small as you are big. He's going to need his big brother Dozle. Be good, but don't let the others push him around."
"I won't, Mommy."
"I love you. You know that, don't you?"
Dozle nods, but doesn't take his eyes off Garma.
It's the most perfect sight for Nalisse. "You're so young," she whispers, "but don't forget this moment you shared with your mother, all right?"
"I won't."
"The nurse has to put Garma back, now. He'll be able to come out and play someday."
"But you won't?"
Sadly, Nalisse shakes her head. "No. So you have to play with Garma for me. You have to be good."
"I will be." Sensing the visit is coming to a close, Dozle slides off the bed again, watching as Garma is deposited back in his incubator. He blinks a few times. "Will I ever see you again?"
Nalisse smiles. "Who's to say? Perhaps, someday . . ." Pain shoots through her, and she holds her face steady so she doesn't betray her agony to Dozle. "Send in . . . your father now, please, my sweet Dozle."
There's no time for goodbyes, and she's grateful when Dozle disappears through the door and she can gasp and get the nurse's attention.
"I can't give you anymore," he says. "If I do, it'll . . ."
She waves him off when Degwin enters, and, seeing her distress, he hurries over. It's perhaps the fastest she's ever seen him move. Her grip on his hand when he grasps her is intense. She channels the screams she's not making into her hold on him. "It's time," she whispers.
"No, no, no. It's too soon. It's too soon!"
"It's time," Nalisse says. "I'm sorry. I so wanted to stay with you. With all of you."
Degwin's lost and looks pleadingly at the nurse. "Do something!"
"No," Nalisse says. "Don't try to run from this, Degwin. Face it. I'm dying. These are our last moments. Don't squander them with futility. I'm sorry. I really thought I could . . ."
"Shhh. No. I'm the one who's sorry. I never should have let you . . ."
Nalisse shakes her head. "He's lovely though, isn't he? Our Garma."
"Yes, but I . . ."
"You have to love him twice as much. You have to love him for me, too."
"I will, I will. Oh, Nalisse. I . . ."
She hears Degwin talking, but the words stop making sense. The pain blurs her vision and she puts her head back on the pillow. "Please, love," she whispers, silencing his babble instantly. "Let me go." Her fingers grasp, reaching, and he catches her hand.
She doesn't see Degwin give the order, but she feels the nurse by her head again, preparing the last medicine she'll ever need. As the world starts to blur, Garma begins to cry. It's the first sound he's ever made. Closing her eyes to listen, Nalisse is sure she has never heard a more beautiful noise.